Broken Poetry
by PunsandPoses
Summary: Ivan has always liked Alfred. He keeps it to himself, and no one knows. This is his journal, the one kept stashed away and the one he writes in. The one that has all the words he's never said. Little does he know, Alfred has one too. This is their relationship over ten months. The ten months that defined them. RusAme.


**Title:** Broken Poetry

 **Rating:** T

 **Prompt:** High School AU! RusAme, Poet Ivan

 **Warnings:** Running Away (JIC, guys)

 **Summary:** Ivan has always liked Alfred. He keeps it to himself, and no one knows. This is his journal, the one kept stashed away and the one he writes in. The one that has all the words he's never said. Little does he know, Alfred has one too. This is their relationship over a year. RusAme, with fragments of FrUK and PruCan.

 **A/N: Yet another RusAme fanfiction. When will I learn to NOT make another fanfiction when I'm already working on six?**

 **Ivan's journal is told in poetry. POV and the way the story is told switches. Each section is a chapter and named. All the poems are my own.**

 **Happy reading, and please review.**

* * *

"New Years, New Thoughts"

December 30, 11:52

Ivan looked at Alfred, who was making a fool of himself, sloshing beer down his front. He took a sip of the Smirnoff he had in his hand and rolled his shoulders. Parties weren't his thing.

"Duuuuuuuude," Alfred slurred. "It's New Years! Lighten up a bit!"

Ivan laughed. "I'm quite light, thank you."

"No, you're not," Alfred countered drunkenly.

"I am," Ivan said. "And you're drunk."

"I am, aren't I?" Alfred answered. "Anyway, isn't that your second bottle?"

"Yes, Mother," Ivan replied saltily. It wasn't like Alfred was his mother. He was tired of the blond giving him grief on his vodka-consuming ways when he was out getting drunk every weekend. Ivan only drank vodka on special occasions.

"Fine!" Alfred said. They sipped at their drinks for five more minutes. Francis appeared, reminding them that the countdown was in two minutes. Alfred rolled onto his back from his position on the floor.

"You know what would be totally crazy?"

"What?" Ivan asked tiredly.

"If we kissed at midnight."

* * *

"Fly"

January 15

 _With broken wings and body I fly,_

 _It's all I can do, so I try,_

 _The simple words I cannot say,_

 _Have taken all my lives away._

 _Even if my heart shall break,_

 _And all my loves I shall forsake,_

 _I cannot help but be betrayed,_

 _By the love yet unpaid._

 _So to myself, I keep this trial,_

 _Through suppression and denial,_

 _And with it, I start to shatter,_

 _But you don't know me,_

 _So it doesn't matter._

* * *

"Figure Out"

January 17

I can see you in the hallway. Standing there. What are you doing? I can see you watching me. I want to talk to you. Why won't you walk over? Why won't you speak? I know you want to. I can see it in your eyes. But all our lives are on a broken record.

Artie says I need to make the first move. What is the damn first move? Do I walk over like an idiot? He shrugs and says I have to figure it out for myself. That's hard when you can't figure it out.

* * *

"Break"

February 16

 _Break me down,_

 _Break me up,_

 _Take it apart,_

 _With just a simple touch._

 _Take back all the words you said,_

 _All those chains of yours and all that dread,_

 _And perhaps you'll be okay,_

 _Some broken, sunny day,_

 _Where darkness is not known,_

 _And what we know is just home._

* * *

"Know Each Other"

February 25

Paired together in Science. How weird is that? I wonder what you're doing in that corner over there, writing in that journal of yours. Maybe I should invite you over. Maybe then we'll get to know each other again. And it will be awesome, right?

* * *

"Somebody That I Used To Know"

February 25

 _I used to know you._

 _Now I don't._

 _All those words we said_

 _Mean nothing now_

 _And even those tattered banners we made_

 _As children playing in the street_

 _And all those promises of friendship_

 _As teenagers drinking whiskey in the old house_

 _Are broken now._

* * *

"Sky"

March 8

 _I used to look up at the sky_

 _With hopes and dreams and lullabies,_

 _But now I don't anymore_

 _and I don't know why._

* * *

"Broken Record"

March 14

It seems I knew you. But we've drawn apart. I feel like a broken record. I used to know you. I used to know you. Perhaps I need to see the stars again. Perhaps I need something to stop. Perhaps I never knew you. Perhaps we fell apart.

It's been weeks. Weeks since I've seen you. Thank god. I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle you. I couldn't handle myself.

Do you remember that October night two years ago? When we sat against the wall of my bedroom and just talked? I do. And I want us to be like that again. Best friends. Good friends. Just friends.

Maybe we can find that again.

* * *

"Faces"

March 23

 _I can see all the faces,_

 _All their very different paces,_

 _I remember what they said,_

 _The thoughts are spinning in my head._

 _School starts again in a week,_

 _And I'm ending this blackened streak._

* * *

"Alone"

March 24

What the hell are you doing? What are you doing, Ivan, running away from me in the supermarket? I can't figure you out anymore. Why did you tell me to leave you alone? Why the hell can't I talk to you? Why don't I mean anything to you anymore? Damn you!

* * *

"Regret"

March 25

 _I regret, I regret,_

 _There's nothing I can do but fret,_

 _The broken look on your face,_

 _The shadow falling over your eyes,_

 _As I tell you I need space._

 _Regret is for the old and weak,_

 _And all ties are severed._

 _Perhaps I'll get peace,_

 _But there's a final beast._

* * *

"April Fools"

April 1

April Fools Day. Nothing new is going to happen, you know. Nothing is going to hurt now that you left me. I can feel my smile crack. Mattie sees it. I can't hide it. How can I hide it?

* * *

"Big Kid"

April 1

 _The pranks are loud,_

 _I wish I could lose this crowd,_

 _It's bad to be the big kid,_

 _Where everyone can stick out a leg,_

 _And everyone has you pegged,_

 _But what can I do?_

 _Bloody my knuckles and get a bruise?_

* * *

"Day"

April 11

Your favorite day of the week, right? Something about someone being born? Or was it an anniversary? I don't remember. But I'll talk to you. Tomorrow, I'll talk to you. I will.

* * *

"Curse"

April 12

 _What did you do?_

 _Why did you walk over and talk?_

 _Why did you curse me like this?_

 _Don't you know I like you_

 _And all of this is wrong?_

* * *

"Shattered"

April 12

You look so broken nowadays. What's up? I talked to you for a minute, yet that minute looked like it shattered you. I want to know what's going on, dammit! I want to help!

* * *

"Note"

April 12

 _Ivan, I don't know what's up with you. I want to help, but I don't know what to do. You'll never talk to me, and it hurts so freaking much, I can't even tell you. Can you just talk to me? That's all I'm asking you. Just to stay for a moment. And talk. -Alfred_

* * *

"A Note In My Locker"

April 13

 _You slipped a note in my locker_

 _You wrote it all out_

 _You told of your emotions_

 _All your fears and all your doubt._

 _But I can't help you,_

 _And I can't talk._

 _Just leave me alone!_

* * *

"Avoid"

April 14

Stop avoiding me! I'm tired of it. I want to TALK. I want to help, I want to know what happened. I don't know why you started avoiding me! Dammit, Ivan!

* * *

"Hidden"

April 16

 _I'm hidden._

 _I'm gone._

 _I'm tired of the same old dance,_

 _I'm tired of this song._

* * *

 **LANGDON TIMES**

 **May 15**

 **MISSING TEENAGER STILL NOT FOUND**

 **By Feliks Łukasiewicz**

Ivan Braginsky, 17, has been missing for over a week, and no trace of the teenager has been found. According to police chief Ludwig Beilschmidt, evidence suggests that Braginsky ran away due to emotional pressure or bullying.

His two sisters, Yekaterina "Katyusha" and Natalya Braginsky, have been alerted to their brother's disappearance, and both are hoping their brother will come home.

"Big brother means so much to me!" Natalya tearfully told a reporter during a press conference.

Police state that they are doing all they can to find Braginsky, and they implore anyone with information to come forward.

* * *

"Find"

May 16

That's it. I'm going. I'm finding you. I've packed a bag, and I'm going to find you. It might take me a while. But I'll find you. Even if I have to travel 5,000 miles. I'll find you.

* * *

"Nostalgia"

May 18

Alfred tripped over a branch and cursed. A long scratch was leaking blood, and it stained his sock. But he had to find Ivan. The blue backpack he had stuffed with food, drink, clothes and First-Aid kits bounced against his back painfully.

"I'm finding you, Ivan. That's what heroes do."

He was going to the Shack, the appropriately named building they had discovered years ago. It had a rusted tin roof and wooden walls that were ready to fall in on themselves.

Alfred was tired. He was tired of Ivan running. He was tired of constantly trying to find the ghost of a person. It might take him weeks, but he would get to Ivan. Somehow. Some way. But he would.

The Shack appeared through a thicket of trees. It was as ramshackle as he remembered. But there was evidence of someone being there. Concrete blocks had been set along the walls, probably as some sort of brace. Fresh boot marks had been made around it, and trees were missing branches.

It was just like Alfred remembered it. A wave of nostalgia washed over him, and he felt unexpectedly sad. But there was nothing he could do but push on. So he did.

* * *

"Just Give Me A Reason"

May 18

Ivan stacked the branches against a wall. He had done well in renovating the Shack. The walls were no longer ready to fall in on themselves. He wiped his hands on his dirt-covered jeans and turned.

Alfred was standing in the doorway. His arms were crossed on his chest, and he raised an eyebrow. "Sentimental, I see."

Ivan rolled his eyes and spun away from the blond. "Why should you care?"

Alfred strode the length they were separated and grabbed Ivan's shoulder. He twirled Ivan, who found himself facing the blue-eyed man. Releasing Ivan's shoulder, Alfred glared daggers. "Because you're my friend, you idiot. And I care about you. You stopped talking to me, and I never knew what happened."

There were the pleading eyes he could never resist. Those sky blue depths that always made him stare. The color of a sunny sky. Alfred was sunny, and Ivan could never match that.

"Talk to me for a goddamn moment, will you?!" Alfred snapped, his eyes hardening to a deep cerulean.

Ivan pulled away. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," the other exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "You can talk. You're talking to me now. Why can't you tell me what's wrong with you? Why you completely alienated me?"

"I can't because you're the reason I did!" Ivan bellowed, his exasperation with Alfred and himself finally being released.

"What?" Alfred said, his eyes wide.

"Yes!" Ivan yelled. "You are!"

"You should have told me," Alfred said, his eyes darkening further in sadness. "You should have told me sooner."

He waved a dejected hand and left, his eyes still sorrowful. "What did I do?" he asked quietly as he left. "What did I do?"

Ivan watched him leave, then he sunk to the floor. Pulling his knees to his chest, he buried his face in them. "You did nothing, Alfred," he whispered. "It was me. It was all me."

He had finally allowed himself to cry.

* * *

"Midday"

May 20

I haven't gotten up in days. Arthur's worried. But I don't know what I did. I can't figure it out. Ivan was so happy when we were friends, then he vanished after New Years. What did I do? I can't find it out. Ivan talked. That's good. But he didn't tell me what was wrong. He didn't tell me what happened in New Years. Maybe I'll find it out. Later.

I've checked the time at least five times now. 12:13. 12:25. 12:32. 12:47. It's midday.

* * *

"Purgatory"

May 23

 _Back in here again_

 _It seems that purgatory began_

 _When I was in my own hell_

 _But who knows, and who will tell?_

* * *

"What Happened New Years"

May 24

I'm still so tired. And I still don't know what happened in New Years! I want to know, but it's obvious Ivan won't tell. I'm tired of this hot-and-cold treatment. I need answers. But I can't go to Ivan. He won't be of any help. I'll bother Francis, he was sober that night.

* * *

 **LANGDON TIMES**

 **MAY 25**

 **TEENAGER COMES HOME, SAYS HE "NEEDED TIME ALONE"**

 **By Feliks** **Łukasiewicz**

Ivan Braginsky arrived home late last night, much to the relief of his two sisters. Ludwig Beilschmidt states that he is "perplexed" by the teen's reappearance.

"It is not in character of teenagers to come back from running away. Unless Mr. Braginsky decided he really needed 'time alone', I will be investigating," the police chief admitted in a conference.

"I don't care if he ran away," Ms. Braginsky said. "He has come back, and that's all that matters."

Others have different opinions.

"I don't think he needed time alone," states a student at Langdon High, where Braginsky will return to school. "If anything, he was running away from something."

Even if he was running away, it is clear that his return brought relief to many.

* * *

"Beasts At Mating Season"

May 26

Alfred approached Francis, who grinned when he saw the other blond and peeled off the wall he was leaning on.

"Alfred!" Francis exclaimed. He wrapped the sunny blond in a hug and ruffled the oh-so-carefully messy hair he knew Alfred styled. "What can I do for my third favorite Kirkland-Jones?"

"Tell me what happened in New Years," Alfred said seriously.

Francis stared at him. Then he exhaled slowly. "You kissed Ivan."

Alfred stared back. "What?"

"You. Kissed. Ivan. Braginsky." Francis stated clearly.

"HOLY SHIT. I KISSED IVAN?" Alfred asked. He buried his hands in his hair and tugged at the golden strands. "I kissed Ivan Braginsky. Oh my god, oh my god…"

Francis let him continue his frantic muttering and then decided to end it. So he did what he did best: bitch-slapped Alfred.

The latter's head whipped to the side, his cheek reddening severely in the form of Francis' handprint. He braced for another, and it was founded. A second hit put his head on a swivel. Francis ducked the punch aimed at him.

"You son of a bitch," Alfred began.

"Oh, shut it," a British-accented voice interrupted. The sandy-haired man it belonged to glared, arms crossed. "You needed that."

"Thank you, Arthur" Francis mock-swooned. "I have had to dodge far too many punches today, _chérie_."

"Don't thank me, Frog," Arthur snapped. "You flirted with Monique again, didn't you?"

Francis clutched his chest. "Why do you make such false accusations?! I assure you, I made no attempt."

"Whatever," Arthur rolled his eyes. He turned to Alfred, who was watching the exchange with mild bemusement. "What were you asking Francis about? Was it New Years?"

"Yeah," Alfred answered. Arthur started laughing. "What?!"

Arthur just waved his hand and clutched his stomach with the other arm. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Alfred became ever more perplexed. "What? What is it? Did we do the do or something?"

Arthur regained control of himself and wiped his face. "That's- that's amazing!"

"It was pretty sensual," Francis said. "I mean, your brother was distracting me at the moment, but I saw the whole thing. You just- how do you say?- flat-out kissed Ivan. Practically shoved your tongue down his throat."

"You pretty hardcore mouth-screwed him," someone else agreed. All three jumped and swiveled to see Matthew. He shrugged nonchalantly, used to being unseen. "I've been here the entire time."

"Hello, Matthew," Arthur said. "But, yes, Alfred, you did- how did you say it, Matthew? Oh, right- hardcore mouth-screwed him."

"Like beasts at mating season," Matthew agreed. "Honestly, it was an intense game of tonsil hockey."

Alfred left.

* * *

"Chasm"

May 27

 _Chasms spread easily._

 _It only takes a second,_

 _A blink,_

 _And the earth yawns up before whoever had made it._

 _Perhaps they look at their chasms with regret,_

 _Their voices sorrowful and muffled._

 _Or they are prideful,_

 _Thinking they have done a great deed,_

 _But when really they are shattering themselves._

 _Sometimes chasms form quietly._

 _They spread like crackling poison,_

 _Starting small and growing._

 _Sometimes I fear,_

 _There are chasms within us all,_

 _And we will never be able to cross them._

* * *

"A Letter"

June 4

 _Dear Mr. Kirkland-Jones,_

 _It is our pleasure to announce you have been accepted into our Science and Rocketry Camp this year. If you are going, please send a reply via email, telephone, or letter. Registration ends June 9._

 _Camp runs from June 10-15, and we expect all members to bring appropriate supplies, including toiletries, a swimsuit, a notebook, sunscreen, and bug spray. A full list of the expected supplies is available at our website._

 _If you have any questions, call1-800-555-2270. Other contact information is also on our website._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Elizabeta_ _Héderváry_ _and Roderich Edelstein_

 _Wickland University: Sparking Knowledge and Learning_

* * *

"Cabin Mates"

June 10

Alfred bounced in the seat excitedly. Arthur, in the driver's spot, rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the road.

For six days, Alfred had begged Arthur to drive him, mainly because he couldn't drive. Well. Alfred was seventeen and had a license, but he was a god-awful driver. He went too fast, swerved often, called friends, and generally wreaked havoc on the heart-rate of the driving public.

The tall pines of the forest they were driving through gave way to oaks, ash, and sycamores. The cabins appeared in the distance, framed by willows that swayed gently in the light breeze. Teenagers were already milling about.

They pulled slowly into the large walkway that already had cars packed bumper to bumper. Arthur's beat-up forest-green Land Rover seemed out of place amongst the various Jaguars and Audis that were there.

Alfred slid out of the car, hopping to the balls of his feet and using the added inch he gained from the exercise to look around.

Arthur snorted as he pulled out Alfred's duffel bag, which was decorated with pins of the American flag and patches depicting aliens. Alfred's favorite, a gray patch of an alien with red eyes he called Tony, hung dangerously from the strap it was attached to, threatening to fall.

The former handed the duffel bag to Alfred, who swung it onto his shoulder and jogged to an open space where others were milling around. "'Bye, Arthur!"

Arthur waved and slid into the Rover, smiling a little sadly. He smirked when he remembered who would also be there. Pulling smoothly out of the line of cars, he drove away.

Alfred was in his element. People were talking rocketry, and he was excellent on that subject.

Ever since he could remember, he had loved space. And by association, he loved rockets, shuttles, everything that had the faintest connection to the heavens above. It wasn't as though he disregarded all science. He was just in love with space.

It had started with a book. Arthur had grabbed it off a shelf absentmindedly, thinking Alfred would like it. Named _Astronomy_ , it became Alfred's favorite book. He spent hours poring over each subject within the pages, absorbing the information. He loved stars, learning how the universe worked, all of it. He loved finding constellations, patterns in the sky.

Ivan was the same. He had an equal love of the vacuum's mysteries, and that was how they became friends. They spoke about physics, about states of matter and how the universe operated. They talked about time. They grew close.

Alfred made a rocket when he was nine. Although it was rickety and blew up half of the fence when it took off, it went far up.

And here he was now. Astronomy was his passion. He caught snatches of conversation as he dodged through the crowd.

"New kids this year-"

"Think they'll have the same materials?"

"Ugh, my roommate last year was terrible-"

He hung on the fringes, listening. A woman with light brown hair and green eyes walked to the front of the space and clapped her hands. "Everyone! If I could have your attention please!"

The chatter died down and everyone stared expectantly at the woman. She cleared her throat. "I am Elizabeta Héderváry, and I am your counselor this year. As a reminder to all campers, sneaking into the forest to make out is _not_ what this camp is for. Got it?"

There was a general murmur of assent. She continued. "Excellent! I assume you have all necessary supplies, so I'm assigning you to cabins and your roommates. Now, your roommate will be your partner for this camp, so try to get along, 'kay?"

She pulled out a sheet of paper. "Since there's only thirty of you, there won't be such a delay on dinner. Anyway, here are your partners."

She rattled off a list of names and cabin numbers. Everyone paired off with their cabin mates and moved to their cabins.

"Alfred Kirkland-Jones with Ivan Braginsky. Cabin 10."

"Oh, _shit,_ " Alfred muttered.

* * *

"Day One"

June 10

Today was interesting. Apart from the whole "Ivan and I are cabin mates" thing, it was fun. We tested amateur rockets and told what was wrong with them, made star charts, and talked about parallel universes.

It's almost midnight here, and Ivan's snoring across the room. We had a bit of an awkward time in the beginning, but since science doesn't really allow that, we got through it. But without a distraction, it's a bit tiring. I wonder what we're doing tomorrow.

* * *

"Rockets"

June 11

 _I saw a bright star._

 _It was hidden in blue depths,_

 _Framed by bright hair._

 _As the rockets went off around us,_

 _You whooped and yelled._

 _You brought a little brightness to my day._

* * *

"Day Three"

June 12

Dinner was terrible. I hate to say it, but it was. Apparently, there was some mix-up in the kitchen, and it made everything terrible. Including the hamburgers. Especially the hamburgers. Makes me want to cry.

* * *

"Chemistry"

June 13

 _We worked on golden ideas,_

 _We plotted stars._

 _We computed physics,_

 _We found time._

 _I guess we've got that chemistry._

* * *

"Day Four"

June 14

We calculated where a comet would be. Man, was that math hard! We also found how likely it was it would hit Earth in the next fifty years (45%). God, I'm having so much fun.

* * *

"Time"

June 15

 _The time has come_

 _For us to part._

 _I can't deny_

 _We've gained a new start._

 _But please,_

 _While you're away,_

 _Forget about me._

* * *

"Bored"

June 23

I have done nothing in days. It's boring. There's only so many times I can play COD or Mariokart. There's nothing to do. Summer's supposed to be fun. Maybe I'll go bug Artie or something.

* * *

"Tedium"

June 26

 _Summer has lost its edge,_

 _It's smoother than silk now._

 _The days blend together,_

 _And there's yet another._

* * *

"Swimmin'"

July 1

We went swimming today. I forgot how much of a baby Artie is about swimming. He likes to sit on the side like a toad and get sunburnt. Mattie likes to stay in the shallows. Me? I like to touch the bottom of the deep end.

Artie eventually got so sunburnt, we had to have aloe on our hands to even touch him. We keep telling him to wear sunscreen, but he doesn't listen.

He's going to get something, I just know it.

* * *

"Birfday"

July 4

"Happy birthday!" Matthew told Alfred. The latter grinned. "You bet!"

"Oh, god," Arthur groaned.

"Don't get drunk this year!" Alfred pleaded. "The hungover version of you is terrible!"

"So are you!"

"Oh, shut up!" Matthew laughed.

* * *

"Starts In A Month"

July 15

Oh my god. School starts again in a month. Crap. But hey! I'll be a senior!

* * *

"Shit"

July 17

 _Oh, shit._

 _School starts again soon._

 _I hope he's forgotten me._

 _Probably not._

* * *

" Good Christ"

July 21

 _I hope Ivan and Alfred will solve their problems this year. I'm tired of constantly being assaulted by tension whenever I'm near the two. I mean, good Christ, can they make out already? Matthew, I think, agrees._

* * *

"An Email"

July 27

 _Hey, Birdie._

 _Everything's great over here. The West Coast's been pretty forgiving to my skin, can you believe it? I can't. But we're in Seattle, and it barely ever has sunshine. You'd love it, I bet._

 _I agree that Ivan and Alfred need to resolve their problems. Jesus. I have never met two kids more in the closet. It's ridiculous. Even with the 'problem' you're talking about- I'm making finger quotes, you know- they should still talk._

 _Send me a message soon._

 _-Gil_

* * *

"Summer"

July 30

 _Summer is almost over_

 _Its days as sweet as a clover_

 _Honeysuckle danced across the yard_

 _Only a few weeks ago._

 _Can you believe it?_

* * *

"Eclipse"

August 5

 _Alfred turned to stare at the wall. It was plain and made of an unassuming red brick._

 _"Nice, isn't it?" someone said by him. Ivan walked toward him, his violet eyes boring into his._

 _"What? It's just a brick wall."_

 _"That's what it is to most," Ivan replied. Alfred noticed that instead of the trademark brown coat, boots, and light scarf, he wore a close cut black suit and grayish purple tie. He stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged._

 _"Can you see it? What's painted there?"_

 _"What are you talking about?"_

 _"Just look."_

 _Alfred stared at the wall. Lines of gold traced a circle as he stared, filling in the shape. Darker gold made a different image, shading in everything until the picture was complete. It was a star, spreading light to a planet. It was beautiful, and it was ethereal._

 _"Whoa..." Alfred whispered._

 _"It's amazing, isn't it?" Ivan strode to him and took a place next to Alfred._

 _The picture started to change. A female figure in robes was in the center of the star, and a moon was made of silver to the left. Another figure stood there, her slim physique obvious against the black backdrop. Her hair swirled about her shoulders as she reached to the woman in the sun._

 _The image began moving. As they watched, the star and moon met. The star embraced the moon, her gold coloring a sharply elegant contrast to the moon's silver._

 _They began to dance, the star leading. They danced across the solar system, a pathway of soft blue forming underneath their bare feet as they danced. At the end, the star softly kissed the moon, and both faded back into their celestial forms._

 _The image drained away, becoming a bright circle in the center of the now-smooth wall. Black, silver, and blue threaded through it._

 _Alfred barely had time to admire it when his lips were caught in a kiss._

* * *

"Animation"

August 7

I've been really weird lately. After that odd dream I had of me and Ivan. I mean, we kissed, but ugh! Anyway, I've been drawing the picture that I saw in the dream and it's turning out pretty okay. Hands are my curse though.

Maybe I'll animate it. Show what the cool dream was.

* * *

"Like You"

August 11

 _I admit it_

 _And God I wish I couldn't._

 _Damn, I really do like you, don't I?_

* * *

"Slap Us Into A Routine"

August 17

The end is nigh! *waves sign around* Anyway, school starts tomorrow. Also, why the hell does school start in the middle of the week, anyway? I've never gotten that. I realize we're used to sleeping in, but jeez, you can just slap us into a routine with starting on at least a Tuesday. I can't wait to be a senior, that means I'm going to be a teacher's assistant. I'll be Mr. Wang's, he's our history teacher. And goddamn, he's strict. But nice, and he has a halfway decent sense of humor.

See you tomorrow.

* * *

"Sucker Punch"

August 18

Alfred laughed as he milled around the crowd, greeting old friends and talking cheerfully. Everyone seemed happy to be back. He scanned the crowd for a distinctive hair color: ivory. He wondered where the giant was, and he found him. Barreling through the crowd like a madman, he wrapped his arms around the unfortunate victim, who stumbled back in surprise.

"You dick!" Alfred exclaimed, pulling back suddenly. He punched the other. "Makin' me worry like that."

Ivan laughed. He actually laughed. Rubbing at the bruising, red area, he grinned down at the furious Alfred. "Sorry about that."

"You damn well should be!" Alfred punched Ivan's arm. Ivan hugged him and released him quickly. "So, friends?"

Alfred grinned. "Friends."

They sauntered through the crowd that had gathered around them, laughing about things. It felt good. It felt really good.

But some small, tiny, _loud_ part of Alfred said that this wasn't good enough. Alfred squashed that feeling like Arthur sometimes stomped on Francis' foot. Because he was friends with Ivan again and he didn't need that shit.

* * *

"Message Man"

August 18

Someone watched from the shadows, unnoticed. They tapped a message into the phone, smirking. The plan was starting to fall into place.

 **Sent to: 1-343-555-2917**

 **He's friends again. Time to start Operation AI.**

He received a message almost immediately.

And he smirked


End file.
